


Ashtray Heart

by VincentsEyebrows



Category: Placebo (UK Band)
Genre: Abusive Relationship (Minor M!OC x Brian), Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Drug Use, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 05:46:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13357785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VincentsEyebrows/pseuds/VincentsEyebrows
Summary: “Bri, we can't afford this.” Stefan smiled sheepishly as he watched Brian try on some heart shaped sunglasses. They were at the supermarket and these glasses were obviously some cheap rip off, but still more than the both of them could afford. They lived together, in a cramped, shitty, one room apartment with one mattress.





	Ashtray Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fic that took me a while to write, so I hope it’s good! Have a good reading!

  
“Bri, we can't afford this.” Stefan smiled sheepishly as he watched Brian try on some heart shaped sunglasses. They were at the supermarket and these glasses were obviously some cheap rip off, but still more than the both of them could afford. They lived together, in a cramped, shitty, one room apartment with one mattress.

Brian smiled and shifted his weight on one hip, his pale arms swinging around Stefan's neck. “I know, but it's nice to dream.” The older felt Stefan's hand nestle on the small of his back, holding him close. “How much do we have left to spend?” Brian now removed the glasses and placed them back into the stand. Normally he wouldn’t had minded stealing them, but there were cameras on the aisle.

“About ten pounds.” Stefan's heart was wrecked. Even though he knew that Brian didn't particularly care about some bad fashioned sunglasses, he still wished he could afford getting him some gifts. After a moment of checking on a piece of paper in his hand, one filled with numbers, he took a calculating face. “That's about enough for two packs of cigarettes.” Whenever they went shopping, they would write down the cost of everything they bought, to make sure they stayed in budget.

The shopping cart was filled with the basic necessities. Ingredients for sandwiches, coffee, milk, rice and spaghetti. There were a few tomatoes too- They had earned some extra money due to Brian handing out fliers last weekend. Vegetables were expensive in England.

“Do we have enough shampoo left for the week?” Brian asked, the two of them staring at each other in their attempts to recall. “Screw it, I can do without shampoo, not without cigarettes.” The older declared and started pulling their cart to the check out.

Stefan could only watch quietly, his mind overrun by all sorts of thoughts. He studied his lover as he handed out his money, the last of their cash for the rest of the week. The Swede tasted bitterness in his mouth, thinking of how he got fired from his last job. His homophobic cunt of a boss saw a Polaroid picture of him and Brian kissing in his wallet, then found the right moment to kick him out. His mouth run dry, his heart beat in his throat. If he had that money, he would had been able to afford a therapist for Brian.

The image of Brian shoving shards of glass into his thighs and cutting them open was forever burnt into Stefan's memory. He remembered his lover weeping and hurting himself, his eyes clouded by alcohol. Stefan had to scoop him close and keep telling him that it was going to be okay, that they would get out of this shitty situation. He couldn't bare seeing Brian, his Brian, aching that badly. The Swede couldn't bare seeing his hands stained with that person's blood.

“Stef!” Brian practically yelled into his lover's face to snap him out of his trance. “I'm not gonna hold all that shit by myself.” He grumbled in his high pitched, nasal, voice. There weren't really too many things, just two shopping bags, but he wanted to make it sound like there was so much he couldn't handle it. “What's more interesting than me and our dinner for the rest of the week?” A teasing tone and a smirk.

Stefan took one of the bags numbly, needing a few moments to pull his thoughts together. Once his mind registered to the situation, he leaned over and kissed his lover's head. “You, but in our bedroom.” There was a cheeky smile and Brian had to snort.

“Our bedroom? That's our entire apartment, remember?” Brian brushed his long hair behind his ears and searched for his cigarettes in his jacket's pockets. He took one and lit it, inhaling deep puffs of smoke.

The bassist wrapped his free arm around his lover's shoulder as they started walking. “Straight home?” The tired look that Brian gave him was all the confirmation needed for him to know that that it was about time they called it a day.

The two walked to the subway station, chatting about some equipment that they saw in a magazine. Stefan’s hand was securely fixed around Brian’s shoulder, as if he was trying to keep him safe from the crowd. They went down the stairs to the tube station, where they stood on their platform. Stefan stood behind Brian and moved his arms to his waist, the Swede’s chin resting on top of his black bob.

The act received a dirty look from someone across the platform, whom Brian flipped off with a raised finger and a mouthing of the words ‘fuck you.’

Stefan couldn’t help but chuckle and squeeze the smaller man tighter. “Manners, Bri.” He heard the start of a small string of curses, which he dealt with pressing his face against Brian’s neck and kissing it light enough for it to feel like tickling.

Brian tried to keep a straight face, but he ended up laughing and trying to shift away from the tight hold. “Come on, Stef–“ he tried to pout, but Stefan just kissed his cheek and let him be. The two of them stepped into the last wagon and leaned into the nearest wall.

Their house was a few stops away, which was enough for Brian to start feeling discomfort. He shifted a little, feeling fidgety as unknown bodies pressed into theirs in their attempt to fit into an already packed train. He breathed deep, his heart was beating in his throat. Too many people. A slight tremble begun to surface, but Stefan knew what to do. The Swede pulled him against his chest, successfully stopping his vision and filling his nostrils with his familiar scent.

As soon as they reached their stop, they both dashed out and Stefan pulled a trembling Brian up the stairs of the exit. They dropped their shopping bags on the nearest bench and the Swede held his lover’s face in his hands. “Are you feeling alright?”

Brian nodded meekly and tried to nestle his face into his lover’s hands, even under the light drizzle that begun around them. “Let’s go home, I’m tired.” It came out like a plead and Stefan was happy to oblige.

They paced their way home.

Keys slid into the door, groceries put away in the fridge and a cupboard, and relief washed over them both. They were calm now, so they found themselves doing things of their own. Stefan was on the mattress, Brian was contemplating whether to make coffee or not, yet he was actually just lost in thought.

“Are you seeing Ethan today?” Stefan asked, sprawled on the mattress with his freakishly long limbs. He probably took up all of the available space, which resulted in Brian having to curl against his side, still dressed in his jeans and leather jacket.

“Yes, I’m getting us a good deal.” The older whispered, his arm coming to rest on top of Stefan’s chest.

Stefan practically grunted at the confirmation to his words. Ethan was Brian’s ‘boyfriend’, even though they both slept around. Ethan was a rich fuck that provided Brian with all sorts of drugs to fuel his system with, and most of the times he returned home with an extra share for Stefan. “Maybe you shouldn’t. It’s raining pretty hard.” He bit his tongue at the lame excuse.

“We’re in London, Steffie. It always rains.” Brian muttered as he lit up one of the cigarettes that they had just bought. “Besides, you never complain when you have cocaine to snort.”

“I’d rather have you home, safe.” Stefan took the cigarette from his friend’s hand and inhaled deep. Filled with frustration, the bassist passed the fag back.

Brian rolled his eyes and pulled himself to a sitting position, his cigarette slowly burning between his index and middle finger. “I’m starving like a bitch. What do you want to eat?” The vocalist stood and grabbed at his grocery bag. “We have sandwich and... sandwich.” Brian smirked cheekily, holding up a pack of cheese and ham.

“I think I’ll have a sandwich.” Stefan chuckled and stood up as well. He stood behind Brian and wrapped his arms around his waist– Or that’s what he aimed for, but with their height difference, his arms went around his chest. “Cheese goes first, Brian.”

“Shut up, you cannot have a first when there are two slices of bread and only two ingredients. Both are first that way.” Brian looked up with the expression of a smartass, to which Stefan responded with lifting him up and carrying him away from the kitchen counter. Brian kicked his legs and laughed, hands gripping tightly on his partner’s.

“You aren’t allowed in the kitchen.” Stefan declared proudly and threw Brian on the mattress, watching him bounce on it unceremoniously. “I’m gonna get them.”

Brian shut up and pulled his bitchiest expression and tone of voice. “Well, what-fucking-ever, you Swedish cunt.” The older grumbled and grabbed at the bottle of vodka that they had purchased earlier. “You can cook all you want, I hate that shit.” Brian opened the bottle and took in a long sip. He lowered it and coughed, raw alcohol burning down his throat.

Stefan turned from the counter as he cut the sandwiches in half, cocking his brow at the sight of his friend getting drunk at 4pm. “That’s not very attractive, Bri.” Stefan handed a plate to his friend and sat on the mattress as well.

Brian grabbed at the first half and started munching on it eagerly. Then, he sipped on Vodka again, to push the food down his throat. “I’m fucking tired of eating this shit. It tastes like sand at this point.” Brian grumbled, then continued the process of switching between eating and drinking.

“I know, but it’s all we can afford, if you want to keep on smoking and drinking.” Stefan informed, one hand rubbing at Brian’s knee soothingly. “It’s gonna get better.”

“Not unless I plant a bullet through my head.” Thick silence spread throughout the room, Stefan’s throat feeling tight and his hand freezing on his friend’s thigh.

They both opened their mouths to talk, but they didn’t get the chance. There was someone knocking on their door, thing that had Brian grunting. “Who the fuck is it?” He yelled, eyes switching from Stefan to the door.

“Ethan.” The visitor announced loudly, his voice ringing bells into both their heads.

Brian leapt up and went for the door, which he yanked open with a drunken little smile. “Babee~”

Ethan wrapped his arms around Brian’s middle and hoisted him up just for a moment, Brian’s legs locking around his waist. “Drunk again?”

Brian held his lover’s cheeks in his hands and shrugged, his dark curls teasing the man’s face. “I would never be sober if I could afford it.”

“This doesn’t surprise me.” Ethan sighed and finally let Brian’s feet touch the ground. He turned to Stefan as he wrapped a possessive arm around his lover’s middle. “I’ll be stealing him for a few hours.”

“Make sure he eats.” Was all Stefan had to say as he started washing their dishes, mainly trying to distract himself from the sight that had his chest burning with jealousy.

“Oh, he will, trust me.” Ethan gave Brian a dirty little smirk and pulled him to the door. He guided the youth to his car, pulling him into the rain without much care.

The ride to Ethan’s dirty apartment was short and in just a minute Brian was pressed against the wooden door of his house.

The door was opened and they stumbled inside, until Brian’s body was pushed against the couch. Ethan straddled his thighs and snaked his hand around the younger’s neck. “Did you miss me?”

Brian tipped his head back, the hold around his neck tightening with every moment of hesitation. “I missed you so bad, baby.” He whispered breathlessly, his ice cold eyes narrowing as he drew much needed air after his throat was released.

“You’re overdressed.” Ethan murmured, his hands tugging at his lover’s leather jacket and then pushing his shirt up to his armpits without much grace.

Ethan was eleven years older than Brian, he had a steady job and could provide for him. Not that the younger needed it, he just wanted his drugs.

Brian had gone through this routine countless of times, getting into Ethan’s house and letting himself be fucked numb. Then, Ethan and him would smoke together, or do heroin together.

Today, Brian kept thinking of Stefan’s touch, of how gentle his hands were whenever he touched his waist, how he always asked if it was okay to take his clothes off. Even when he didn’t voice it, his reluctant movements gave him out.

“Ethan…” Brian shifted his knees to get the older man’s attention, his hands coming to grip lightly at his shoulders. Ethan ignored him, he started biting at his neck and pushing his cold hands up Brian’s sides. “Ethan.” He repeated, louder, firmer.

“What is it?” Ethan sat back with a look of mild annoyance, his hands resting on his partner’s thighs.

Brian pulled himself to a sitting position, his skin somewhat damp with sweat as he breathed in shaky breaths. “Let’s snort some powder first, baby. I need it to,” He swallowed hard. “Relax.” His head was spinning, he was entering his state of withdrawal again.

Ethan smirked and stood up. “You already consumed the amount I gave you?” He didn’t wait for a response, because he went to fetch the illegal substance as asked. Once back in the living room, he cut little lines of cocaine with the help of a credit card. He rolled a bill into a small tube, then took in a line for himself. He passed the bill to Brian, who immediately knelt by the coffee table.

Brian pressed one of his nostrils closed and put the bill on another. He snorted a line and rolled his eyes back, the substance gradually spreading through his system. Without waiting for Ethan, he snorted another line with his other nostril. His body pressed into the couch as Ethan snatched the bill from his hands.

By the time Brian got to the fourth line, his body was shaking from head to toe and he was breathing heavily. A thin layer of sweat glistened his skin, creating stains on his grey t-shirt. Dilated pupils followed Ethan’s advances, his hands moving up in defence as he tried to put some space between them. “Don’t fucking touch me.” Brian gasped as Ethan kept on, as he pushed his thighs open and started biting at his ear.

“Shut up, you’re nothing but a worthless whore.” Ethan murmured as he bit down on Brian’s neck again and again, hard enough to leave angry red bruises. “What is it? After you get your bit of cocaine you decide you don’t want to fuck me? Do you think you have a choice?”

Brian felt every hair on his body stand at the threat, which had grenades turn behind his eyes. With an abrupt movement, he leaned back, for the sake of punching Ethan’s jaw. He used his moment of daze to stand up and go for the door, but a hand wrapped around his ankle before he could do anything and his body hit the cold floor.

Ethan was on him again, gripping his neck with his vicious hold. He grabbed his hair and shoved the youth’s face to the floor with malice. “I’ll kill you before you’ll have the chance to even consider laying a hand on me again.” The older warned, punching Brian viciously with his free hand and watching him double in pain and cover his face with his hands in some sort of defence. At this point, Ethan felt like he would really strangle the younger, his hand cutting his breath off from the force he put on his neck. “Get the fuck out. Now.” Ethan all but barked and he grabbed his _lover_ by the hair and dragged him to the door.

Between his bleeding nose and the ache on his body, Brian only registered to his body hitting a cold staircase. He cried in pain as step after step dug into his back and his head, his body wrecked with tremors of pain. Ethan came down the stairs and Brian felt truly scared. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to–“ he cried out as he was grabbed by the hair again and thrown to the street, his body scratching against the rough pavement.

That’s how he was left under the pouring rain of London, dressed in just t-shirt and jeans, his makeup staining down his face as he gripped himself tightly. He shook and cried, he was aching. He didn’t know how to contact Stefan, the telephone pole was right there but he didn’t have any change.

“Bri!” Stefan echoed in the distance and all Brian could do was rub his eyes in disbelief. It couldn’t be Stefan. How did he know he needed him?

“It’s fine, Brian, just breathe, I’ll take you home.” Stefan felt his body wrecked with rage as he collected his partner in his arms. He called for a cab, even if it would cost the last of his savings. “What did he fucking do to you?”

Truth was that Stefan was wrecked with worry every time Brian saw Ethan. He always stood outside of his apartment, to make sure he could help his lover if the need showed itself. Today, he couldn’t be more grateful for that choice of his.

When he put Brian into the backseat of the taxicab, he took a minute to study his swollen face. There was blood trickling down his nose and teeth, his eye was already turning into a dark shade of blue. Stefan told the address to the driver and asked if he had a tissue or anything. Grateful to the man for giving him one, he started wiping Brian’s face with outmost care.

“Est-ce que tu vas bien?” Stefan whispered, talking in French was a way to assure that Brian felt comfortable. The driver had little chance of understanding, so this sheltered them into their own little world.

“Oui.” Brian whispered, even though he ended up wincing as his face moved. A string of cusses in French followed, until Brian felt satisfied enough with his small outburst.

The ride home was quiet, Brian’s hand nestled in Stefan’s larger one. They occasionally spared each other a glance and the Swede would whisper that it’s okay. When they finally arrived, Stefan gave enough change for the drive and helped Brian outside.

First thing Brian did once inside was collapse on their mattress, curl up and grip at the blankets. “Fucking piece of shit. Had I been any less intoxicated I would had torn him a new asshole.” He was practically fuming, even though his wet clothes made him feel weak and tired. They clung to his body and made his temperature go down.

“What happened?” Stefan asked and knelt on the ground by Brian’s side. He started undoing the shoelaces of his combat boots, then pulled them off and discarded them without much care. Then he undid his pants and pulled them down his ankles, then came his shirt and the rest of his clothes, piling on the floor.

Brian immediately curled underneath the bed sheets when he was left naked, his body was freezing. “I refused to fuck his tiny prick and he got mad at me. He tried to force it on me but I punched him and we started fighting.”

Stefan reached out with his hand, warm comforting palm touching his friend’s cheek. “Was that enough to keep you away from him?” The bassist asked, yet feeling the tremble in his partner’s body made him frown. “Brian, you should take a warm shower.”

Brian just pushed himself harder into their duvet, completely unwilling to move. “If you want to do something to help, roll me a joint and pass me the vodka.” He was coming down, that’s how he felt. The whole experience had been pretty sobering.

The bassist stood with a low huff and let Brian have some time to himself. He did roll him a joint and he did grab the vodka, but he felt like he didn’t want to give it to Brian. He already was intoxicated enough. With a little sigh of defeat, he plopped on the mattress and lit the cigarette. He inhaled once and passed it to his partner.

Brian took out big puffs of smoke and tipped his head back, his mind slowly clouding up. He felt tears of anger pooling in his eyes, which he drowned by gulping down vodka. He wiped his lips and then his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Bri, stop.” Stefan tried to snatch the bottle away, and to his surprise, Brian just let it go in defeat.

Brian rubbed his face and bit his lower lip. “It’s not worth it, Steffie.” He whispered, soon to sit up and lean into his partner’s side. He felt drowsy, there were so many toxins in his blood at the moment, he was dizzy.

Stefan pulled Brian tightly to his side. He pressed a firm kiss to his forehead, as if he was treating a hurt child. The bassist wished they had some ice for Brian’s swollen eye, but they didn’t even have a freezer to begin with.

They both startled as they heard banging on the door, Brian’s wide and intoxicated eyes fixing on the piece of wood separating them from the outside world.

“Bri, baby, I love you, I’m sorry.” A drunk, sultry, voice echoed from the other side and another few thumps on the creaking door. “Come back, I’ll do you right, baby.” Voice was coated in sugar, it would move anyone.

Brian pulled himself into a sitting position, fingertips shaking around his joint. “Fuck off, Ethan! Wipe yourself off the face of earth before I put a bullet through your thick fucking skull!” Yelling until his throat hurt and he found his eyes filling with tears of frustration.

“Open up, you dumb whore!” The voice snarled and Brian was about to leap up and go for the door– But Stefan grabbed his wrist and held him down.

“I’ll go. Sit here.” The Swede stood and went for the door. Stefan was a calm person, he didn’t like fighting, but with his towering height, he could scare some dumb twat away. He yanked the door open and before Ethan could react, Stefan shoved at his chest. “Go away before your ugly ass face slides down every step of the staircase.”

Ethan’s eyes widened at the sight of Stefan and took a step back. “Easy dude, I don’t want trouble with you– I just– came to see Brian and, you know, how we both are, easy to piss.”

“Don’t fucking try me.” Stefan growled and grabbed Ethan’s shirt, his eyes fixing into his in a vivid glare. “Leave.”

Ethan scoffed and shoved at Stefan, taking a good step back. “I won’t be waiting when he comes back crawling.” The man left, jogging down the stairs with an air of defeat.

Stefan took in a breathe of relief. Shit. He was glad that they avoided a fight. He hated violence. Brian was more of the fist fight type. “He’s gone, Bri, everything is good.” The Swede paused by the door, hand numb on the knob.

Brian sighed lowly, the joint hanging from the edge of his lips as he sat on the mattress. Blankets pushed off, he had drawn his knees to his chest. A small blade that Brian usually used for cutting up cocaine in his hand. He was drawing red blooming lines on his pale skin, blood spilling down his complexion in red soft trickles. He mostly scarred his thighs, close to his crotch. They often wore dresses, so Brian kept in mind to keep the wounds in spots that could be hidden. “It’s okay.” A quiet whisper came out, another line being slowly opened up.

Stefan needed a minute to breathe, he wasn’t quite ready for this. He carefully approached Brian’s side and sat on their mattress. He kissed his knee with outmost care, his calloused fingertips gripping gently at his ankle. “Bri, let that down.” The Swede cooed, this time placing a soft kiss over an old scar. “You’re drunk and you’re stoned like shit, put it down.” Stefan opened his palm, holding it out so Brian would give him the razor blade.

Which he did, carefully. Brian, with meek movements, placed the sharp object in Stefan’s hand without a word. Then he eventually slumped back, until his back hit the mattress. He curled to the side, his blood covered thighs pressing into the bedcovers. It burned, but Brian didn’t particularly care. “Don’t talk about it, Steffie.” He murmured, face nestling into his pillow.

Stefan had to bite his tongue in order to keep any sharp words in. He put the razor to the kitchen counter, then joined Brian in bed. He felt his chest ache as he laid by his side. He was hurt, so, so hurt. He couldn’t stand seeing that person being wrecked by his own hands. “Bri. Look at me.” His voice was gentle, nearly pleading, like talking to a grumpy child.

Brian turned just barely, his face now present to Stefan, swollen and full of tears that had gone cold. He bit his lower lip and ice cold eyes bore right into his partner.

Stefan smiled gently, caressing Brian’s cheek with the back of his hand. It was considerably softer than his fingertips, rough from years of bass playing. “Remember? A few months ago?” Stefan cooed gently, then widened his eyes and leaned his head back with a smirk, doing a bit of a Brian impression. “I’m playing a gig this week, so why don’t you,”

“Come down?” They both echoed together, a faint smile finally appearing on Brian’s face.

“You were hopeless, sticking papers and saying that you speak French and English.” Brian chuckled quietly, the corner of his lips upturned. “Then you came and saw me. Now we’re here and I have a home.”

“And thankfully you started washing your hair more often than you used to.” Stefan teased, which had Brian laughing and staring at him with a look of betrayal.

“You stupid Swedish cunt.” Brian laughed and swatted at Stefan’s hand. “Don’t touch me, I never bathe.” He complained, but the bassist was already kissing him long and hard.

Brian climbed on Stefan’s lap, his elbows resting by each side of his head. Big palms found his bare waist and he smirked against his partner’s lips.

Stefan moved one of his hands into Brian’s messy hair and caressed them, occasionally gripping just enough for his partner to shudder. Their lips pulled apart and he went straight for Brian’s pale neck, sucking red marks that were sure to fade within a few hours into his skin.

“Stef,” Brian whined, his back arching just a little. His hand moved down, eager to tease Stefan through his pants. He rubbed at his crotch, grabbing at that spot between his legs. He smirked in satisfaction when the Swede arched into his hand and moaned. “I like it when you try to be bold.”

“No one can be as bold and vague as you are.” Stefan chuckled breathlessly, his hips pushing into his partner’s teasing hand.

“That’s right, no one can.” Brian purred, full of himself as Stefan rolled them over and pinned his tiny frame with his towering height. His hands slipped into the Swede’s hair and he pulled him down to his lips for once more.

Stefan let Brian dominate the kiss as he slid his hands to his chest, his thumbs pressing down on his perky nipples, his skin there contrasting his ashy white complexion. He felt the older shift underneath him and rub his legs together, to create friction on his cock.

“Get up and get the lube, Steffie.” Brian grunted, yet Stefan kept him pinned down with his hips. “Stop it– Fuck you, Stef–“ Brian chuckled, because right then Stefan started blowing into his neck. “Asshole.”

Stefan kept it up for another moment, glad to hear his lover’s chuckles fill the small room. He had such a beautiful laugh. However, the younger also wrapped his hand around Brian’s cock then, pumping it slowly. He heard laugh mix with moans, until it just ended up in wanton sounds.

Brian sighed out an exasperated little huff and tried to contain the little moans that pooled in the back of his throat. “You win, fuck you.” He whined bitchily, but his back arched off the bed as soon as he was squeezed tighter.

Stefan kept on the slow teasing, his lips twisting into a little smirk as he watched Brian close his eyes and gasp. He only let go when he felt like he had built his partner up enough.

Brian was pouting visibly, yet he only softened up when their lips pressed together, soft goosebumps growing over his skin as he felt him and Stefan melt into one.

By the time they broke off, Stefan slowly lowered himself down his partner’s body. Before he could hover between his legs, he yanked his shirt off, lean frame seeming pale under white lighting. He pushed Brian’s legs open by the knees, careful not to touch any cut. He settled for kissing an old scar, which had his partner looking away. The Swede didn’t want to push with the scars, so instead, his hands found Brian’s bottom and spread it with his palms. His thumbs settled by each side of his entrance and pulled gently, to make it easier to penetrate. The act received a shudder, but as soon as Stefan’s tongue pressed flat against the older’s hole, he heard a small gasp. He spent a few moments that way, just sucking and lapping on the exterior, just to get Brian to loosen up.

“Oh, Steffie, fuck–“ Brian’s back arched as Stefan’s tongue pushed into his eager entrance. It moved and stroked wherever it could reach, endless warmth turning Brian into a shaking mess into the Swede’s hands.

Stefan pulled his tongue out to lick on the area again, before it pushed in again. He kept repeating the same process until Brian forgot how to properly breath. In his moment of high, Stefan pushed a single finger into Brian’s tight heat. It was wet with enough saliva to endure a single digit. He started thrusting it into his lover’s prostate, slowly yet solidly.

“Feels good?” Stefan asked, watching with a satisfied smirk as his lover tipped his head back and nodded meekly. The Swede kept Brian busy with the gentle thrusts of one finger, while his body rose from the mattress in search of proper lubricant.

Brian started growing irritated with how unfocused Stefan’s movements seemed to become and he rolled his eyes. “Under the duvet, Stefan.” He grunted, his hand reaching somewhere by his side and grabbing a small bottle– Which he tossed to Stefan without much grace.

Stefan took a mock hurt expression as the lube collided with his arm, his lips soon to set on top of Brian’s knee. “You’re so irritable.” The younger undid the cap and poured some of the liquid on his fingertips, having long sine left Brian empty.

If Stefan was a scenery, he’d be the calm forests of Sweden, where people would tell you to sit in the fucking snow and meditate. “Fuck’s sake, Stefan. I’m not irritable, you’re just too fucking–“ Brian gasped lowly, two of his partner’s fingers slid in without a warning. “It’s the second time you do this…” he whined, hands fisting into the bedcovers.

“I know.” Stefan smiled cheekily as he hovered over his lover. He pressed their lips together, Brian’s mouth opened and caught mid-moan. It quickly developed into a heated kiss, full of tongue and desperate hands. Brian clawed at Stefan’s shoulders as the Swede worked him open, his walls quivering and his body shaking.

“Stef, come on…” Brian’s voice sounded nothing like the usual bitchiness against Stefan’s lips, even though he still tried to channel his bravado. He failed miserably at it, because, at this point, his body felt numb with pleasure. He only moaned as Stefan added the third finger inside him, making his body fold in pleasure.

Stefan concentrated on spreading Brian open for these last moments, his fingers thrusting and scissoring until his partner was writhing on his hand. He carefully retreated his fingers and watched as Brian’s expression shifted into one of displease. The Swede pulled away just for a minute, to wipe his hand on the nearest tissue and undo his pants. Stef’s mind was clouded at this point. He had Brian laying on his back, panting and having his hair splayed beneath his head. His cheeks were a soft taint of pink, pupils dilated. Therefore the Swede had to repeat in his head the simple steps that he had in mind. Open his belt, then zipper, then slide them down. Repeat. As soon as he got rid of any garment of clothing, he knelt between Brian’s legs. He lubed himself up, then leaned over his partner for once more.

Brian watched as Stefan put his hands around his waist, then pulled him close to position his cock on his entrance. “No, Steffie, stop.” There was a soft pout in his voice, which made Stefan halt in his movements and just hover over his partner. “Up, up.” He looked up with his piercing eyes, hands extended.

Stefan seemed to be confused for a minute, but he quickly caught up to his very demanding lover. He carefully pulled himself into a sitting position and held his hand out. “Come on, Bri.” He took the much smaller hand in his own and brought his lover to his feet. Their eyes met as they both stood, Stefan’s towering height making Brian feel so small and vulnerable in all his nakedness. The Swede held his cheeks in his hands and had him looking up, then slowly guided him to the window.

Brian’s back grew goosebumps as his skin pressed into the cold glass of their only window. Stefan held his cheek and kissed his nose, to assure him that it was going to be okay. His hands reached to his partner’s bottom and carefully hoisted him up, which made Brian wrap his arms and legs instinctively around his bassist. Squeezed between the window and Stefan, the older found himself shuddering and aching to kiss these plump lips.

Brian inched up with his eagerness, yet he couldn’t quite reach all the way to his partner’s mouth. Stefan kissed him instead, at the same time that he started pushing against Brian’s entrance. The older hissed quietly into their kiss as Stefan pushed in, his eyes growing slightly teary at the intrusion. Stefan was big and Brian was always too tense at first. It felt like he was being torn apart.

Stefan made hushing little sounds against his partner’s lips until he was all the way in and Brian was arching against the window. His manicured hands had found the Swede’s short hair and gripped on them like there was no tomorrow. “Bri? Is it too much?” The younger asked in a worried voice, to which Brian responded with a shake of his head.

Stefan took this as a cue to do a small, experimental thrust. It was received positively, so he gradually built a rhythm, watching Brian shudder and moan quietly as the pain faded into nothingness.

Brian wrapped his arms around the Swede’s neck and inched his head back against the window, the slow thrusts making his heart jump in his chest. He let out quiet moans against Stefan’s collarbone, his breath hot and rasped. “Stef…” his voice was a mere whimper, the muscles of his thighs contracting from where they were wrapped around the bassist’s middle.

Stefan tilted his head until he was biting on Brian’s ear and whispering sweet words of encouragement. He tried a few different angles until he finally managed to find that spot that made Brian arch and shake against the window. His hands kept a tight hold on his waist and on his bottom, pushing into him with primal need, thrusts slow yet solid. “Mine.”

Brian’s body was receiving a million different sensations with each passing moment. Squeezed between Stefan’s scorching body and the freezing window, he found himself breaking out in a series of gasps. Hands tried to be comforting and possessive at the same time, the Swede’s thrusts showing his attempts to be gentle and mindful. “Steffie, stop holding back.” Brian whispered, voice soft, lacking the usual snark.

“Bri…” Stefan seemed to be reluctant as he gradually came to halt his thrusts. His breath was heavy and sweat was glistening his forehead, but through his arousal, his worry shone through. Brian felt small and fragile in his arms, especially today, especially after what happened.

“Let loose, Steffie.”

They stared into each other’s eyes, ice blue burning into cosy brown. Then Stefan grabbed at his waist and shoulders, efficiently pressing his entire body down as he begun to thrust faster, way more vigorously. Brian’s cries of pleasure filled the room, until his voice started breaking and even meaningless sounds came off incoherently.

Their sweats mixed now, nobody would be able to tell where Brian started and where Stefan ended, if anyone ever dared to try and tell them apart now. This was their little moment of safety, of conclusion, as Stefan practically pounded Brian against their only little window. The older’s desperate hands kept looking for a place to hold on to, to claw at with his sharp fingernails. His face was twisted in pleasure and his mouth was constantly open, producing sounds like a broken record.

“Come with me, come on, Bri.” Stefan encouraged as he noticed the older pumping his own cock into completion, their eyes fixed together as they both struggled to maintain eye contact.

Whimpering turned into loud groaning, bodies arching together and releasing into a moment of bliss, muscles tense and hips slowing to a halt.

“Bri, Bri, you’re so beautiful.” Stefan now held his partner’s panting face in his hand, their foreheads pressed together and their eyes searching deep into one another’s. “Fuck anyone who can’t see it.”

Brian stared at Stefan with his eyes that were smudged with mascara and worn out eyeliner. He seemed uncertain for a moment, but he didn’t try to protest to Stefan’s words. He let his spent body rest into the Swede’s, still wrecked with heavy panting.

Stefan hushed him down as he slowly pulled himself out and let the older’s legs touch the floor. His arms were exhausted, but having Brian slumped right into them was worth it. He kissed his dark hair, waiting for him to come down from his high. “Bed?” His voice was quiet as his long fingers traced through his lover’s hair.

Brian nodded and gathered the courage to pull back. He pushed his hair behind his ears and took a deep breath through his mouth. With small steps, since his body felt numb, he found the mattress and knelt on it, then laid on his back. He quickly reached out and grabbed a cigarette, not quite aware of Stefan’s movements inside the room.

The Swede eventually joined him in bed and pulled him close to his body. He made sure to cover them with their blankets, not wanting for a very spent Brian to catch a cold. “No more Ethan, alright?”

“Word.” Brian nodded and pressed his face into the other’s neck.

Brian’s last image for the night was the comforting taste of a cigarette and the warm embrace of Stefan’s arms. No Ethan, no work anxiety.

He felt calm.


End file.
